


I'd like to see your mark on me (I'd like to see my mark on you)

by alice9



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cute, F/M, M/M, Peter Hale Needs a Hug, Peter thinks he's fine but he needs a therapist, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, the fluffiest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:55:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alice9/pseuds/alice9
Summary: Peter has a blank space where his soulmark would be if he had a soulmate.It's fine. He's fine.But maybe he's not as fine as he thinks.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Paige, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 25
Kudos: 578





	I'd like to see your mark on me (I'd like to see my mark on you)

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is super cute. I hope you do too. 
> 
> Also, I have romanticized Derek's social work career as if everything works out awesome all the time. I know this isn't real, its my hope for the future but I understand that it doesn't always work out for the worker or the children under their care.

Peter has long been settled into the knowledge that he doesn’t have a soulmate. It happens sometimes in a world of first words appearing on the soft skin of the forearm between the ages of 10 and 14 that a few arms were left bare. 

There was no definitive reason for the absence of words. Some thought one of the soulmates could have died giving them no ability to meet, others thought that one half may have never even been born. Peter didn’t think it to be anything so dramatic. Knowing himself as well as he did after 36 years of life he believed that he was probably just better off on his own. 

And he believed that. Most of the time. There were times however late at night when the bed felt too large, the sheets too cold. Days when he wanted to share something that had happened but calling his sister or one of his nibbling's felt like defeat, and calling a friend wasn’t intimate enough. Sometimes in the moments just before sleep took him he would feel the cloying loneliness, the desire to belong to someone else. For someone to be his. 

He held on to hope that he would find someone whose words on their arm didn’t influence their relationship, or someone like him who had nothing at all. 

It has been a long time since a flare of jealousy has sprung when someone finds their soulmate but for some reason Derek finding his soulmate had left Peter feeling pinched in his soul. His therapist would probably tell him that it was because he was now the only single one left in the family. If he had a therapist that is. 

Cora had met her soulmate two days after she had received her soulmate mark, Laura had found her soulmate in college, and Peter had been with Talia when she had met Andrew. Derek had been the last man standing until six months ago when the washing machines in his apartment were being replaced and he was forced to do laundry in the local laundromat. 

It was there that he met new to the city Paige and Derek’s ‘ _oh my god that's so embarrassing_ ’ soulmark made much more sense after he found a pair of her underwear in the newly vacated washer. Paige’s arm read ‘ _Um, you uh missed one_.’

Adorable. 

The rest of the family had met the girl and had reported that she was lovely. Peter had been traveling for work missing most opportunities to meet her himself but he was back in the state for the week and could take the time to visit his nephew and meet his soulmate. Whatever little jealous knot that had formed in his chest could be pushed aside for Derek and then he could go back to traveling for work and pretending to not care at all. 

TWTWTWTW

Derek is a fantastic cook. Peter isn’t bad himself but Derek had picked up a cookbook at the library when he was 11 and set about to learn the thing as if it were scripture. He could have been a chef at any number of high scale restaurants with the skill set he amassed over the last twenty years but to Peter's great disappointment the boy had wanted to do social work. 

Not that there was anything wrong with what Derek was doing. For all his intense facial expressions and firm build the children he worked with loved him dearly. He did amazing work placing them in homes and keeping them safe from the deplorable situations they had been removed from. It helped that he had minored in law before changing paths and that his father was still a practicing lawyer with connections. 

It was just a shame that people didn’t get to experience the brilliance of Derek’s innate cooking ability. He hadn’t been professionally trained at all, just practiced on the family growing up and Peter would have liked to see his talents used in a broader capacity. As it was Peter was more than delighted when Derek offered to cook for his first meeting with Paige. 

He parked outside of the apartment building and went to call Derek but saw him walking down the street. 

“Hey Uncle Peter. Good timing” Derek greeted as Peter got out of the car. “I was running a bit late today.”

“Hasty retreat from a murder?” Peter nodded down at his shirt which looked to be covered in blood. 

Derek glanced down and then laughed. “It’s fake blood. I was helping with a costume blood packet on a house call today and it did not go as planned.”

Right, Halloween was soon. Peter had forgotten. 

Derek pulled his keys from his satchel and let them in the building. It was nice. The paint color in the hallways and the carpets had been updated from when Peter helped him move in 6 years ago. Derek picked this apartment because it was equal distance from the train as it was to the national park and out of all the ones he’d looked at this one had the best kitchen. 

“How long are you home for?”

“Just the week. I leave for Spain next Tuesday.” 

They stepped in the elevator Derek pushing the button for the fifth floor. “Mom said she has been trying to get you to take on less of a travel roll.” The side eye at this was not lost on Peter. “We barely see you anymore.”

“Well someone has to keep tabs on the company.” 

“Yeah, someone.” Derek agrees. 

Peter hopes that this won't be a topic of discussion for the night. He’s gotten into enough arguments with his sister about it in the past two years. She thinks he is running away, he thinks she speaks to his non-existent therapist too much. If he thinks about it enough he would probably agree with both of them. 

Still it doesn’t change the fact that he does enjoy his work, but he certainly doesn’t need to be doing the amount of it that he has been. Just another thing to push to the back of his mind. 

The elevator opens and Peter follows slightly behind Derek down the hall. His apartment, if Peter remembers correctly, is all the way down at the end but he doesn’t recall which side it's on. 

“Paige gets off of work at six so she will be here around six thirty.” Derek tells him. “I just need to get changed before I start making dinner. I picked out some wines but if you don’t approve there is still time to run to the store.” 

“I trust your judgement whole heartedly. What are we having?”

They are about to the end of the hall and he is pretty sure that Derek was about to answer when there is a clattering of noise to the right followed by the apartment door swinging open and someone tripping into the hall. 

Peter takes note of the long pale limbs and dark mop of hair and the way the fallen man's body sags as if he is disappointed in himself which he did just faceplant into the hallway carpet so there is that. 

“This is Stiles, my neighbor.” Derek sounds fond of the pile of human still sprawled in the hallway. Peter glances at Derek and sees a small smirk on his face. Must be a regular occurrence then. 

His thought is solidified when Derek says, “Stiles I don’t know how you aren’t just one walking bruise at this point.” 

The man, Stiles, lifts up his head to give Derek a glare but quickly turns his gaze to Peter. 

His eyes are striking molten amber atop of an adorable upturned nose and lips that Peter imagines would swell beautifully if he bit them while they kissed. He is shocked at the depth of his reaction but he just wants to, needs to, know this beautiful man. 

He composes himself enough to put on a smirk and says, “All Bambi ankles and doe eyes aren’t you?" 

Stiles eyes go impossibly wider, soft peach pink lips falling apart into a soft o shape, and a gentle blush worked its way up his long neck to cheeks. 

Peter nearly shivered at the desire to lick that long neck. 

Not that he gets the chance to even start a conversation because in a quick scramble of flailing limbs and a slamming door the hallway was again empty. 

“Well,” Peter huffs. “I’ve never had that reaction before.” He feels disappointment swirl in his chest too large for the moment. He tamps it down. 

“Yeah.” Derek says with a little pause before shrugging and opening his own door. “I just need to change my shirt and then we can discuss the menu.”

The fact that Derek has a spread large enough that he is calling it a menu does sooth some of the burn in his chest. He’s being ridiculous. God maybe he does need a shrink, having this deep of a reaction to a stranger has to be a sign of, well, something not great. 

There is a small bar area where Peter sits and takes off his tie, setting it on the counter. He reaches for the whiskey and a tumblr wanting a little different of a burn and turns his head to where Derek is taking off his shoes. 

“Change the pants too, those ones aren’t doing anything for you except hiding your legs.” 

Derek doesn’t even have a chance to roll his eyes because the door to his apartment is slung open and Peter feels a jolt of delight to see that it’s Stiles. His eyes are lit with excitement, face set in determination and he is dragging a man in by the wrist who has clearly just been woken up. They both look to be a few years younger than Derek in the natural light of the apartment windows and Stiles is all the more enticing to look at. 

“Stiles,” the half asleep man groans. “I still have three hours before I need to be up.” 

The protest goes unanswered. Peter is surprised, joyous even, when they come to a stop in front of him. Stiles smiles a tad bit shyly and gives a half wave with the arm not holding the sleepy one in place. 

Peter finds himself waving back. 

“What’s going on?” Derek asks from his spot by the door. 

Peter watches Stiles turn to the other man and then, oh. His hands are moving rapidly and Peter is drawn to how lovely his hands are, how quick and delicate his finger motions are as he signs with his friend. 

Peter certainly hopes it’s a friend. 

The man in question goes from half asleep and confused to one hundred percent alert and excited in a matter of seconds. 

“What? Are you serious?” 

Stiles nods vigorously and the other man breaks out into a lopsided grin. 

“Dude that's amazing.”

Stiles huffs a little impatiently and waves between the three of them.

“Oh right.” The man turns to Peter, who at this point is quite confused but amused all the same. “This is Stiles, I’m his brother Scott. He’s mute but hearing so I’ll translate for him but you can talk to him directly.”

Scott, the brother, looks at Stiles expectantly, but Stiles is looking at Peter and his face goes from excitement to stark red embarrassment in a matter of seconds.

  
“Dude.” Scott says and Stiles cuts him a look that Peter has seen Talia direct at himself before Stiles hands are once again moving. 

“I’m not rushing you.” Scott insists. “You can’t just stare at him you have to actually say something.” Scott watches Stiles sign something and he turns to Peter giving him a quick once over before turning back to Stiles. “I mean yeah, he’s handsome but you still can’t stare, ow!” He yelps as Stiles thwacks his shoulder. “You didn’t tell me not to say that.” Scott thwacks him back. “Well I don’t know what you are thinking!” 

They continue arguing but Peter is preening because Stiles thinks he’s handsome. 

“This is how they usually are.” Derek offers from his new spot next to Peter. “Guys,” Derek cuts in to the brotherly bickering. “What’s going on?”

They both look at Derek like they are being reprimanded before Stiles turns back to Peter. He takes in a deep breath and blows it out as if he is attempting to ground himself before taking a step closer to Peter. He pulls the sleeve up to his elbow on his left arm and offers it out between them. 

Oh. _Oh._

Breath gets caught in his throat and Peter stares down at the words, “ _All bambi ankles and doe eyes aren’t you?_ ” on Stiles pale forearm. 

Peter stands and reaches out, taking Stiles' arm in his hands. He needs to feel, needs to run his fingers over the soulmark that looks as if he had written it on the soft skin himself. He feels Stiles shiver under his touch but he can’t yet draw his eyes away from the words, his words, his words on someone's skin.

“Stiles,” Peter can’t even be bothered by how awestruck his voice sounds. His words are on the arm of this beautiful young man who is looking at him with such excitement and adoration on his face and every good moment Peter has had in his life all rolled into one are eclipsed by this single moment of joy. 

Stiles pulls gently at the cuff of Peter's jacket tilting his head in question. 

“Oh, there's, there isn’t anything there.” Peter admits and Stiles lips quirk into a quick little frown. He moves his hand and then Scott is speaking. 

“I didn’t think there would be.” He translates. “I had a surgery as a baby that damaged my vocal chords. I’m sorry you thought you were alone.” 

His heart twists because as much as he had settled into not having a soulmate, as much as he had believed he was alright with it, each lie he had told himself to make it seem okay, there had always been a longing he tried to tamp down so that it couldn’t hurt him. Because he did feel alone. 

When Peter tugs Stiles allows himself to be pulled forward. He folds himself into Peter like he already knew what Peter needed. His fingers are trembling as they clutch at the thin fabric of Stiles' shirt but he doesn’t care. He has a soulmate. He _has_ a soulmate. 

There are fingers digging into his own back. Possessive. Staking a claim. Stiles is holding onto him just as hard as if he knows how much it means to Peter.

He probably does. 

TWTWTW

It’s been 7 months and Peter still can’t wrap his head around this being real. Waking up to Stiles pressed along his side is still a happy shock that he is slowly accepting as his reality. 

Paige had adored them. The entire night that he was supposed to be getting to know Paige had been spent with her cooing over him and Stiles. He hadn’t been able to let go. He would have found it embarrassing on anyone else but he couldn’t break away. He needed to be touching him in some capacity. Running a hand over his shoulder, down his arm. Squeezing his knee gently. Threading his finger through Stiles own. 

Stiles hadn’t seemed to mind. He had been receptive to all of Peters touches reciprocating his own. Scott had stuck around to translate until he had to leave for work and then they made do with text messaging apps on their phones. 

When Derek seemed tired they moved across the hall to Stiles and talked all night long until Scott had come back around five with the sun just peeking into the sky. He just smiled at them before putting on some coffee and then he took back over the translating duties the phone had picked up. 

Peter has since taken ASL classes. He also started therapy. Real therapy. Not just some fictional jiminy cricket to refer to when he knew there were issues that he would rather ignore. All the self depreciation and familial avoidance had been meticulously picked apart by Amanda and Peter was both grateful and annoyed. Annoyed because she was absolutely right when she helped him realize that he had felt slighted by not having the soulmate mark that others had. That he had been running from his family by working too much because he felt inadequate and lonely. Grateful because she helped him be able to articulate all his fucked up emotions so that he and Stiles could make it to this point of their relationship. 

Peter had stopped traveling so much. Once he admitted that it had just been part of his avoidance he stepped into a more relaxed role. Still working but without the travel haze and overtime when he certainly didn’t need either. 

When Stiles and Scott's lease was up Stiles moved in with Peter. 

Peter loves waking up with Stiles. Where Peter comes into full alertness Stiles takes anywhere from five to twenty minutes to fully come into consciousness. The longer mornings are Peters favorites. Stiles makes these little breathy sighs as he tries to curl and push himself further into Peter's warmth. After a bit of prompting Stiles would eventually un-burrow his head in search of kisses and Peter would deliver. 

There is a unique sweetness to kissing his soulmate into full alertness each morning. Stiles hands form words against his chest or his neck telling him ‘good morning’ and asking if he was leaving for work. 

This morning, while Peter is trailing his fingers along the shell of Stiles face, Stiles wakes by stretching his body fully against Peters, arching his spine and letting out a little breath of a moan against Peters neck. He blinks his eyes up at Peter still thick with sleep but coming to alertness with the passing moments. 

Stiles smiles and Peter offers a smile of his own back. “Good morning darling.” 

Stiles taps his face and makes a half aborted motion returning the sentiment before nuzzling his head back under Peters chin. 

It’s adorable.

“Derek texted.” Peter says into Stiles temple. “If we get up and shower now we can meet Derek and Paige for brunch.” 

Stiles pulls back and cracks an eye open and asks if there will be mimosas. Well, he signs cocktails but Peter knows what he really wants. 

“Not if you don’t get up shortly.” 

Stiles pouts as if it's bothersome but he tilts his head pressing an excited kiss to Peters lips before scrambling out of bed. Peter swats at his ass as he rounds the bed connecting in the briefest of touches. The mock outrage on Stiles' face makes him smile. 

He reaches over to the night stand to retrieve his phone and shoots off a quick text to let Derek know they’ll be joining them. 

A towel lands across his lap and he glances up at Stiles standing in the doorway to their bathroom hip cocked against the door with a playful smirk dancing across his lips. 

**‘** _Shower together?_ **’**

Peter nods. “I’ll be right in.” 

**'** _Hurry_. **'** Stiles signs before he disappears further into their bathroom and Peter can hear the shower turn on. 

Peter looks down at the towel in his lap and his eyes drift over to his arm, at the black ink he’d had tattooed a month after they’d met. After Stiles had shared with him the first thing he had thought when he’d seen Peter. The words he would have said aloud if he could have spoken them. 

_Holy shit. It’s you._

It fit his soulmate so well and he had it tattooed in Stiles handwriting. He loves it. He finds himself looking at it when they are apart, letting his fingers trail over it lovingly. Feeling possessive of the mark like he feels possessive of his mark on Stiles arm. He loves his soulmate mark. He loves Stiles and the life they are crafting together. He loves coming home and telling him the stories of his day and seeing that Stiles isn’t just listening, he’s interested. He has never been happier and there is a ring tucked in a drawer itching to come out when they go on their weekend getaway to the mountains in two weeks. 

For now he can be patient. They’ll get a shower and go to brunch and Peter will drive home when Stiles has had enough champagne to make him silly and sleepy. He’ll let Stiles manhandle him into bed for an afternoon snuggle and it will be an absolute waste of a day but he can’t think of anything he would rather do with his time. 

**Author's Note:**

> My plan to clear out my Teen Wolf WIP folder got derailed by Election stress and family drama. Thankfully that is over for the most part and my creative juices, aided by some wine, have started flowing again. Hope you enjoy this Steter piece of cute.


End file.
